


Prime and Prince

by LadyDeb



Series: Birthright [9]
Category: Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood, Torchwood: Miracle Day
Genre: F/M, Gen, Jack had to get his conning from someone, M/M, Post Miracle Day, Rassilon finally reunites with his son, not especially Ten-friendly, ordinary people can help to defend their world and humanity as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-29
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-21 18:43:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/903585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDeb/pseuds/LadyDeb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eighth story in the Birthright series:  Rassilon of Gallifrey is on Earth to reunite with his son, Captain Jack Harkness.  He has lost lambs to gather, Families to destroy, and networks to inspire.  There is much to do ... but he has all of Time to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Those Who Would Inherit the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> Rassilon wanted a chance to tell his side of the story, including how he came to escape the Time Lock after the confrontation in ‘End of Time,’ so I let him take the reins. There are four parts to this story: this first chapter, which starts putting the pieces together (and the mysterious Casey who tormented Olivia Colasanto aboard the SHIELD helicarrier is revealed); the second chapter, in which Jack comes face to face with his father and learns the truth about his two missing years; Rassilon retrieves a lost Torchwood agent in the third; while the Eleventh Doctor makes an appearance in the fourth chapter. Oh, and just so you know, this new version of Koschei/the Master is ‘played’ by Robert Carlyle. ‘Cause he’s just that awesome.

Unknown location

Shortly after conclusion of _End of Time_

 

 

“You understand now.”

 

The voice was actually gentle, painfully so, and almost apologetic.  It was also almost completely devoid of madness.  Not that he would have any room to condemn anyone else for madness.  Even when he was at his most sane, he wasn’t entirely.  No … that wasn’t entirely true.  Even when he was totally sane, he simply didn’t care.  Even at his most sane, he was obsessed with immortality.  He blinked a few times, until the face attached to the arms holding him came into focus and with it, the memories returned.  The Naismith mansion.  The revelation of the drums, of the source of the drums, his choice to save the Doctor (and, however reluctantly, the Earth).  Followed by … another revelation, a journey, and then … and then his regeneration. 

He’d have to look in the mirror, but from what he could see of his hands, he regenerated into an older man this time.  That was … acceptable.  After a few false starts, he was able to answer, “I do.  I do understand now.  I understand all of it.  Except … how you knew that something needed to be done.”  The drums … oh, the drums were _finally_ gone!  He could have wept with joy and sadness, because the drums were his companions for such a long time, along with the false memory of what created the drums. 

The other man sighed, finally releasing him, and answered, “The first sign of trouble was when he changed a fixed point by arranging the removal of Harriet Jones from power.  That was actually what the humans call a twofer, because the destruction of the Sycorax was also a fixed point.  Had the Sycorax not been destroyed … well.  The Reapers would have had a feast, something Theta should have known.  That was the first issue, and why you were released from the Time Lock in the first place.  He was showing signs of the Time Lord Victorious even then.  I beg your forgiveness for using you in such a way, Koschei, but it was necessary.  The second issue came when Theta’s former companion started blasting through dimensions to find him.”

That actually surprised Koschei, but when he thought about it, it made sense.  Use of that cannon weakened the walls between dimensions.  While the Doctor wasn’t directly responsible for that, the law of unintended consequences came into play.  Seeing Koschei’s understanding, the first among their people continued, “And when he chose you over the planet he has spent so many years protecting, over those who were so faithful to him, I knew it was time to act.  Yes, even before the fixed point of Mars.  Yet, I faced a dilemma … the best way to gain his attention.  Unfortunately, that meant placing the Earth at risk … something with which you have a great deal of experience, Koschei.”

Koschei swallowed hard, because while he still had no love for the stupid apes, certain memories were returning to him of events that he set into motion in 1928, when he sensed the presence of artron energy that permeated the blood in the vial provided to him by the particularly idiotic apes who called themselves the Families.  He knew now that the blood belonged to a man whom he spent a Year torturing.  And he had a terrifying suspicion that this particular man was far more important than anyone could have realized, even that sentimental old fool, the Doctor.  Rassilon said in a silky voice, “Ahhh, I see that the pieces are falling into place for you.  I must take some of the responsibility for what you did to that child.  After all, it was I whom put those drums in your mind.  But we _will_ have words, you and I, about the pleasure you took in torturing **my son**.”

The younger Time Lord nearly swallowed his tongue with the confirmation of his worst fears.  Handsome Jack (the freak, the abomination, someone who shouldn’t exist) was Rassilon’s child.  The First among their people had a son who … Wait.  Wait, if Handsome Jack shouldn’t exist, why hadn’t Rassilon taken him out?  Koschei knew that Rassilon wasn’t ruled by sentiment.  The fact that the Freak was his son wouldn’t make a difference.  Which mean … oh.  That changed _everything_.  He wondered briefly if the Doctor knew this particular truth about his former companion … and rather hoped he didn’t.  He wasn’t sure why … things with the Doctor were rarely clear-cut, including his own emotions toward his best enemy.  And, admittedly, his desire to be one-up on the Doctor (as the apes said) played into that. 

Rassilon continued after a moment, “As I said, much of that was my responsibility.  And you are free to continue your mischief and to torment the new Doctor if you wish.  That is between the two of you, and of no interest to me.  But, understand me and understand me well … if you _ever_ harm my child, or anyone under his protection, again, I will end you permanently, Koschei.  I will strip you of all regenerations and make certain that you can never return to life.  I make you this solemn vow.”  His voice never rose above its current pitch, but that made the threat no less fearsome.  In fact, it made it all the more terrifying, and for the second time in the last few minutes, Koschei swallowed hard.  There was no doubt in his mind that the father and the Lord President were the same being at the moment.  Rassilon would wipe him from the timelines all together, would do so without hesitation if his son was targeted again.

“I … I understand, my Lord President,” Koschei managed to choke out.  He was never an obsequious type, but this was Rassilon … stars above, this was _Rassilon_. Not the monster of his tampered memories, but Rassilon, the first of their people.  And he spent a year torturing Rassilon’s (half) human son?  He was lucky to be alive, much less have any regenerations! After a moment, he asked hesitantly, “What … how exactly did we get out of the Time Lock?”  That was something he was still trying to wrap his mind around.  How was it possible that they were out of the Time Lock, how was it possible that he was allowed out of the Time Lock in the first place?  Shortly after he attacked Rassilon and growled at the Doctor to move out of the way, he found himself … here.  Yes.  Yes, he died in Rassilon’s arms, staring into the Lord President’s crystal blue eyes, eyes that were filled with compassion.  Compassion, and not madness.  When he regenerated, he found himself a new man (again), without the drums unceasing in his head.

“That, Koschei, is a very long story.  The short version, as the humans say, is this:  Davros and Dalek Caan escaped the Time Lock … ergo, to maintain balance in the universe, two from Gallifrey must be freed as well.  That is us.  How we were freed is a story that can wait until later,” Rassilon answered.  That made a terrifying amount of sense to Koschei, who said so, and Rassilon added dryly, “So glad you approve.  Now, Koschei, we have work to do.”  Work?  The First of their people explained, “For the last few weeks, no one on Earth has died.  No matter how catastrophic their injuries or illness, no one has died … save one person.  His name was Angelo Colasanto, and he knew my son.  It is in his home that we’re now.” 

There was something about that name that seemed more than a little familiar, but Koschei shook his head.  That didn’t matter right now.  He asked softly, “What is the plan?”  Rassilon brought his son into this once again, which meant that his Prime feared his child was in danger.  It never occurred to him that the inability of the apes to die had anything to do with Jack Harkness.  After all, the young immortal was a Fact, a Fixed Point, and that wasn’t true of the undying apes.  He was very careful to not even think of Jack Harkness as ‘freak.’  Koschei knew what would happen to him if Rassilon caught even a hint of his son being called a ‘freak.’

“We need information, Koschei.  We need to know who is creating this situation.  If it’s one of the Old Races whom I initially spared, I’ll correct that mistake.  They’ve hurt my son, and that will not be tolerated,” Rassilon answered grimly.  Koschei was actually quite grateful that his Prime’s anger was directed at whoever started this particular mess (all the while, ignoring flashes of memory from a previous incarnation that something about this situation seemed so familiar), rather than at himself.   But there were still some things that he didn’t understand.

Something that his First seemed to understand, explaining, “I work here as a gardener, and I will be needed here.  Your task, Koschei, is to go into the world and discover who has created this abomination.  Once we know that … as well as who stands against them … then we can make our next move.”  It went without saying, at least to Koschei, that chief among those who would be standing against the creators of this situation was Rassilon’s own child. 

 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW 

 

 

 

Colasanto Compound, Nevada

End of Miracle Day

 

 

Over the months, as he tended to his garden and cared for the children left adrift by the death of Angelo Colasanto and the … disappearance … of his granddaughter, Rassilon of Gallifrey quietly and carefully put together his new identity.  He was Ray Zilon, a British émigré who came to the United States seeking his lost son.  One thing Rassilon learned over the course of his (mind-numbingly) long life:  when telling a lie, stick to the truth as much as possible. 

On the rare occasions when he was pressed for details, he simply told them that his son was lost when he was a very small boy, taken from his birth family for his own safety.  And that was true enough.  If it hadn’t been for the assassination plot that nearly took the life of his lover while pregnant with Jack, their son would have had a far different life.  Maybe not better … as the son of the Time Lord Prime, the youngster would have been in constant danger … but certainly different.  He let the humans fill in the blanks with their own imaginations.  That was one thing he was coming to like about humanity … they had extraordinary imaginations.

Another thing he liked was their incredible capacity for compassion and kindness.  Oh, aye, they could be stupid … they could be ungrateful … they could be selfish.  But they could also be astonishingly compassionate.  Here he was, a stranger, and more than once, he saw tears in the eyes of a woman when they learned that his little boy was lost to him.  He always qualified it, saying that his son was no longer a small child and was now a grown man … but those women informed him that he still lost his little boy, and no matter how old they were, your child was still your child.  They could be in their forties or fifties, but they were still your child, and always would be.  Rassilon would never admit it, but he found himself blinking back tears once those ladies walked away (and they would only leave once he promised them to let them know if they could help him find his child).  Of course, his children were far older … Jack was his youngest child, and was well over a hundred years old, but those words held true.  This was still his child, the little baby boy he was only permitted to hold briefly, whose infant consciousness he touched before Jack was even born.

It was then, as he watched those matrons walk away, that Rassilon discovered that his desire to protect Jack was just as strong now as when his son was an infant.  Oh, he knew that Jack didn’t need his protection … by now, he was learning what his son had done to protect Earth, to save stupid, selfish, ungrateful apes … he had learned even more about Torchwood, and he was _so_ very proud of his little boy.  But Jack was his son, and he was Jack’s father, and that was what parents did … they protected their child.  He thought of the clumsy attempt of his baby boy when Jack wasn’t even born to comfort him, that sense of _‘it’ll be fine, don’t be sad, papa_.’  That sense became far stronger, when Jack was born, a tiny baby boy with black hair and bright blue eyes and a pair of _extremely_ healthy lungs that made it known to all and sundry that he was very not happy about being brought into this bright, noisy new world, thank you very much!  Rassilon smiled to himself, remembering the warm weight of that little boy in his arms and the broad grin of a particular Time Lord who delivered his child. 

It was a far stronger version of that embryonic ability that nearly destroyed his son, when Rassilon came face to face with his grown child in those last horrific years of the Time War, before he and the Eighth Doctor came up with the idea of the Moment together.  His beautiful, brilliant twenty-five year old son saluted him, before adding a bit slyly, “There’s something familiar about you, my Lord Rassilon.  Have we met before?”  It took all of Rassilon’s nearly-legendary self-control to keep from weeping and drawing his son into his arms.  But even now, he had to show caution.  Even now, Jack would be a target for the Time Lords who sought shelter at Rassilon’s feet.  They would not take kindly to his son.  He was right, and his little boy almost died as a result.  Rassilon smiled bitterly.  The Time Lord who tried to kill his son, who sought to trigger Rassilon’s darkest side, paid for that perfidy with his life.  Oh, it took time, but in the end, just before they opened the Time Lock and journeyed to Earth, Rassilon killed that Time Lord under the auspices of behaving like a power-mad dictator. 

It was that same echo that drew him here, to the Colasanto compound … that, and sensing his son.  Jack’s blood was spilled here, and it was fortunate indeed that the person responsible was long gone.  He knew from listening to the servants that one of the CIA operatives was the one who shot his son … and by now, he also knew from those same servants that it was a group of apes who called themselves ‘the Families,’ descendents of three men who bought his son’s blood back in 1928.  And yet, it wasn’t his son’s blood that caused this.  They might have used it, but there was more to it than that.  No one affected was a Fact, as his son was.  They didn’t die and reset, they simply couldn’t die.  Rassilon didn’t doubt that these accursed Families believed that it was Jack’s blood that caused this Atrocity.  They also believed that they would inherit the earth.  They were wrong on both counts.  Fools.

No … there were elements of a Time Lock, as well as something else.  For now, though, the most important thing was that it ended.  Rassilon had no illusions that the Families weren’t still dangerous, that they were merely driven underground by their defeat, but for the moment, they weren’t a threat.  Koschei was there, in Shanghai when Jack ended the Miracle with the aid of Oswald Danes (who hopefully would _stay_ dead this time), while that abrasive CIA agent Matheson did his part on the other side of the world in Buenos Aires.  Koschei chose to follow Jack to Shanghai, as penance for what he’d done to him on the Valiant, but that didn’t mean that Agent Matheson and that lovely young girl Miss Drummond were left unprotected.  Oh, no.  Koschei wasn’t the only agent whom Rassilon had on this planet at this time.

When Borusa made his play for immortality so long ago, while he was in his previous body (who had truly bad taste when it came to fashion, but that was par for the course with Time Lords … humans were far more sensible when it came to their wardrobe), Rassilon had the opportunity to see the various Doctors in action, to say nothing of his companions.  It was from those companions that Rassilon chose his other agents on Earth.  Unfortunately, his first choice, the valiant Brigadier, was deteriorating rapidly.  In fact, he would have died, were it not for the Miracle.  It was truly a shame, but the man more than served his country and his world.  Rassilon wouldn’t disturb his rest, hard-earned that it was.  No.  No, he couldn’t have done that, not after his own rest was disturbed by his recalcitrant children.  He wouldn’t do that to another person, human or Time Lord … much less to a man such as Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart.

However, a former subordinate of the Brigadier was alive and well, one Captain Mike Yates … and while he was too old to accomplish what Rassilon needed him to do, he had a daughter who was not.  Further, Yates’ daughter Alicia was good friends with Kate Lethbridge-Stewart-the late Brigadier’s daughter, and quite formidable in her own right-and both women were beyond furious at what was done to their world by the Families and whoever was backing them.  While they were understandably wary of him as a Time Lord, they became far more amenable to his requests when he explained that the Families harmed his son.  He did not, however, mention that Jack was his son.  He was well aware of UNIT’s opinion of Torchwood as a whole and his son in particular and he was unwilling to take any chances right now.

His prudence paid off … the two women reported back to him that the Families tricked Rex Matheson into believing that Esther Drummond was dead.  They even offered to rescue the girl themselves, but Rassilon asked them to wait … she was still in critical condition, and if they tried to rescue her now, her condition would likely deteriorate further.  Thus, the rescue of Esther Drummond (nee Juliana Tregarth) was left to her birth family, as well as Rassilon’s son and Agent Matheson.  Yes, the Miracle was over, but the Families were still out there … and Rassilon knew they would have to be dealt with eventually.

But when it came time to finish the Families, it would be on Rassilon’s terms … not theirs. 

 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW 

 

 

 

London, England

June 2012

 

It had been nearly a year since the end of the Miracle, and to say that Alicia Yates was bored would have been an understatement of Biblical proportions.  Even before Rassilon made his pitch to recruit her and Kate Stewart-Lethbridge, Alicia was doing whatever she could to help those in need.  Not surprisingly, in the wake of the Miracle, a black market for supplies came into being.  Alicia, in turn, stole from the black market and distributed the supplies to those who couldn’t leave their homes for whatever reason.  Great sodding bastards, they were no better than the Families.  Not that she played Robin Hood … no, she helped particular people, those who were unable to leave their homes and fend for themselves, in particular.  There was one Welshwoman she had no trouble turning away, even after the woman tried to use her daughter as a bargaining chip.  For one thing, she demanded Alicia’s assistance … demanded, not asked.

For another, Alicia recognized her voice from the footage of the destruction of that module.  A great sodding glory hound she was, all ‘ _look at me, aren’t I wonderful for saying no_.’ Alicia growled, remembering the confrontation. That one could do for herself.  Aside from that unpleasantness, Alicia was starting to understand why her father was in UNIT … not only did he help to save the world on a regular basis, but it was fun.  Seeing what the Families did to her planet and her people wasn’t a lot of fun, but the things she did to help protect those who couldn’t protect themselves … that was fun.  It was a lot of fun, and more than that, it was good to have a purpose again.  She wasn’t available when her friend Kate went with the Doctor … her son got himself into a spot of trouble … but she listened with delight to Kate when she returned. 

While Kate was off saving the world with the Doctor, Alicia was doing research not just on UNIT, but on its rival Earth-protecting organization, Torchwood.  And she was angry.  She was beyond angry.  Not at Torchwood Three (who drove off those child-hijacking bastards), at their director Jack Harkness, or his father Rassilon (really, just how stupid did Rassilon think she and Kate were?  Never mind, one should never underestimate the arrogance of an advanced species, especially when a member of said advanced species was literally older than dirt).  Truly, she wasn’t even sure whom she was angriest with.  But the protection of the Earth shouldn’t fall to a handful of people.  There was more to Torchwood than Yvonne Hartman (another glory hound) … and there was more to UNIT than her and Kate’s respective fathers.

And so, for the last several months, after she helped to bury those who died at the conclusion of the Atrocity, Alicia mused and thought and plotted and researched (except when her son’s mischievous streak popped out) … and now, she thought she had a viable solution.  Kate told her that Torchwood Two was in Scotland … and there was a Torchwood branch in Oklahoma, of all places.  Kate told her that it was initially a satellite branch, run by former Torchwood Cardiff director Carlyon Tregarth, until he encountered Captain Jack Harkness whilst rescuing Esther Drummond.  And that’s when it came together for Alicia

Whatever dreams she might have had, Alicia knew that she wasn’t a heroine.  She wasn’t like her dad, she wasn’t like Kate or her father … she was just Alicia.  But during Miracle Day, just Alicia was enough.  She wasn’t a heroine, she would never save the Earth … but she could help those who did.  When Alicia went to Kate with her thoughts, her friend surprised her … not everyone belonged in UNIT or Torchwood, but Kate was more than happy to provide Alicia with a name:  Dr. Martha Jones-Smith.  She was a former Companion of the Doctor, and a former member of UNIT who left not long after the child-hijacking aliens made their appearance. 

 As it happened, Martha just gave birth to her daughter and was on maternity leave.  For an active woman, she was finding it difficult and Alicia’s request gave her just the outlet she needed.  There were many days when Martha and Alicia would pour over the logistics and information while Martha cuddled her as-yet-unnamed daughter.  Mickey, Martha’s husband, hovered in the background, always ready to change his daughter’s nappy or feed her or do what had to be done.  If Alicia wasn’t practically old enough to be his mother, and he wasn’t already married, she would have been tempted to make a play for him.

With Martha’s help, Alicia began to put her plan into action.  Namely, to set up a network of willing and competent individuals who (even if they couldn’t fight) could help to protect those unable to protect themselves.  Mickey provided his own assistance by providing Alicia with the name of a British expatriate who relocated to Vermont and was setting up another branch of Torchwood in the States by using a loophole supplied by the Crown.  Alicia wouldn’t be part of that, but she would gladly take the old gentleman’s advice.  If these sodding bastards could pull off something like the Miracle, they wouldn’t go down easily, and they _would_ try it again.

He also provided her with the contact information of groups that fulfilled similar functions to Torchwood and UNIT around the world.  There was Inoltre in Italy; the Erde Einrede in Germany (the baby of the family, so to speak, created in 1991); Escudo in Spain; and many others.  Alicia began dashing off email after email, explaining whom she was and what she was trying to do.  And little by little, responses started to filter in … and the more people understood what she was trying to do, the more support she received.  Once they understood that she wasn’t trying to do their job for them, but was, instead, trying to make their job easier by searching for ways to keep civilians safe the next time the Daleks or the Cybermen or the Silurians or the Families decided the Earth was their personal plaything … they provided her with the information she requested.

She wasn’t the Doctor.  She wasn’t Captain Jack Harkness or Rassilon or the Brigadier or Kate, or even her father.  She was just Alicia Yates, a forty-five year old mother of three who wanted to see her children grow up and make lives of their own.  She wanted to make sure that they would have a world to inherit … and this was her way of doing it.  Torchwood, Inoltre, UNIT, Escudo, the Erde Einrede and other such organizations couldn’t do it alone.  Ordinary people could take up the mantle, they _should_ , and they **did**.  There were other ways to say ‘ _no_ ,’ other than sitting astride a motorbike and generally making an arse of herself.

This was her planet, too… and she _would_ fight for it in her own way.

 

 

TBC  


	2. A Father and Son Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack investigates an anomaly in town and encounters an old enemy; Rassilon comes face to face with his youngest child; while Koschei/the Master remembers his past and makes a decision about his future, as well as the future of a former partner in crime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have the second chapter! There will be two more chapters after this one, as Rassilon has a lot of work to do. We know that he brought Tosh, Owen and Suzie back from the dead so far. One is working for Jack again; one is working with Liam Grady, while the third will be Rassilon’s new Companion (one of them). So, let’s see here … who’s missing? (evil smile) That will be in the next chapter, and the final chapter will see the first encounter between the Doctor (the 11th) and Rassilon since the Doctor’s regeneration.

Dupres, OK

Two weeks after the containment of the Gelfth

 

 

Under normal circumstances, Carlyon Tregarth didn’t like to send his people into situations by themselves … even if that person was an immortal who came back to life every time he died.  That was the case ever since their first (and hopefully, last and only) encounter with the Kinnickkinnock.  However, Rex and Jason were investigating a Rift spike; Lucas was doing maintenance on their helicopter; Octavia and Owen were interviewing the denizens of Dupres in the wake of the Gelfth’s attack a few weeks earlier; while Sophia, Priscilla and Adriane were at lunch with the newest member of the family, getting to know (respectively) their granddaughter, daughter, and older sister Esther/Juliana; and Carlyon accompanied Natalie to interview Ailsa’s new teacher.  All of which left Jack to investigate an anomaly coming from the building beside their home for veterans, on his own.  And that was fine with him.  He was never entirely comfortable with Carlyon’s directive … he could take care of himself, but if he was dead, he wouldn’t be in a position to protect anyone else.

The truth was, he needed the time to clear his head.  Seeing Tosh again hurt, in a good way.  There were other notables from that situation; for one, he was thoroughly amused when Tosh gave Adriane Tregarth the shovel talk on Owen’s behalf (and equally bemused when she gave Esther the exact same talk on _his_ behalf).  That was all before she kissed him (and Owen) good-bye before vacating Natalie’s body.  At least this time, a member of his team asked permission before taking over Natalie’s body … they still weren’t sure what Suzie was doing, and Jack wasn’t sure if they’d ever know.

It was important.  He knew that much.  But for now, he had other things to worry about.  Jack raced lightly up the steps of the building where the anomaly was first noticed, carefully pushing the door open and stepping inside.  Jack waited while his eyes acclimated to the change in lighting and glanced around, checking for potential issues.  At first glance, it was just your prototypical deserted building … aside from the slight, dark-haired man standing in front of him.  Jack’s Webley was in his hand and aimed at the newcomer between one breath and the next.

The man offered him a small smile, saying in a soft Scottish burr, “There’s no need for that, Jack, although I suppose I can’t blame you for keeping it handy.”  He knew Jack’s name.  That did nothing to alleviate Jack’s concern.  There was something unnervingly familiar about the stranger.  A possibility occurred to him … The stranger continued, “You know, this isn’t how I pictured this meeting.  I would have figured that you would have shot me by now.  Then again, you weren’t here the last time I tried to take over the planet.” Jack’s blood ran cold as that possibility grew stronger, and the man’s smile grew broader, though not friendlier.  He observed coolly, “Really, I hadn’t thought it would take you so long to figure it out, Jack … I know I made more of an impression, after that Year we spent together.  You and those children on your team.”

There were times when Jack really hated being right.  The immortal flicked the safety back on, slammed the Webley back into its holster, and then he started forward.  There was a flicker of fear, or trepidation, in the Master’s eyes as Jack’s fingers twisted in the bastard’s collar and he slammed the Master hard into the wall, hissing, “You go near them, near _any_ of them, and Doctor or no Doctor, I _will_ kill you.  Hell, I may kill you right now!”  His hands were actually wrapped around the Master’s throat as he remembered Tish and Clive and Francine, and the hell that the Master put them through; as he remembered the sight of his team dying, one by one. 

Jack wanted to kill the bastard right here, right now, to make sure he could never do such a thing to Jack’s home again.  But he couldn’t.  It wasn’t because the Doctor wouldn’t have approved.  He did a lot of things that the Doctor didn’t approve of.  But there was something in the Master’s dark eyes that stopped him … that fear or trepidation that Jack noticed earlier.  He also saw sadness … sympathy … but what was missing was the disgust that he remembered, that strange mixture of revulsion and curiosity as he killed Jack over and over.

The trembling immortal released his tormentor.  The Master shook his head as he rubbed his throat and observed softly, wonderment obvious in his voice, “Unbelievable.  You had your hands around my throat, literally … and you let me go.  Me, the monster who spent an entire year torturing you just because I could and to get a reaction out of that worthless Time Lord who calls himself the Doctor.  Oh, I know, you drew my attention to force me to leave the Jones family alone, but the truth remains.  I hurt you in every way possible, Jack Harkness, and when you literally had me in your grasp, when you could have ended me once and for all, you let me go.  You are truly a stronger man than I am … and truly bigger on the inside.”

“What kind of game are you playing, Master?” Jack rasped out.  It was the same man who tortured him for that horrific year, but at the same time, it wasn’t.  Dizziness swept over him and he gasped, “What the hell did you do to me?”  Jack looked down at himself, but saw no syringes sticking out of his body.  He raised his head with some difficulty, forcing himself to focus on the Master … whose hands were empty and his expression genuinely worried.  Jack’s knees buckled and he began to collapse.  To top off an already-extremely confusing encounter, the Master’s worry gave way to fear and he actually moved forward to catch Jack.

As his nemesis cradled him, easing him to the ground, he called, “ **Rassilon**!  By the stars, if this is one of your games, it needs to end right now!  Your son needs you!”  A cool hand cupped Jack’s cheek, and the Master hissed, “Damn you, you do not get to do this to me!  I don’t know what’s happening to you, Handsome Jack, but you _will_ fight it!”  A shadow fell over the two men and Jack looked up, dazed, to find Ray Zilon, the Colasanto gardener, standing there.  Ray Zilon.  Rassilon.  The first among Time Lords, the key to his lost memories … and that knowledge sent Jack spinning into oblivion as his greatest enemy cradled him close.

  

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

 

 

He knew there was a chance that his son would react badly to seeing Koschei again … so did the erstwhile Master … but his agent wanted this chance to talk to Jack first.  Just to be safe (and unbeknownst to Koschei), Rassilon brought along a sedative for his fallen child because he knew just how aggravating Koschei could be to a saint.  As much as Rassilon loved his son, Jack was no saint and he certainly wasn’t an angel.  As it turned out, he brought the sedative for the wrong person … if he’d known that part of his ‘making amends’ speech included taunting Jack about that horrific Year, Rassilon would have knocked Koschei unconscious, bound and gagged him, and stuck him in a cupboard!  As it was, he had to fire a sedative-laden dart into his son’s calf, to prevent him from triggering another regeneration for the younger Time Lord.

“What the hell did you do to him?  I thought … never mind,” Koschei snapped, still cradling Jack in his arms as Rassilon approached.  Evidently, he now saw the dart sticking out of Jack’s lower leg.  The Prime motioned for the fallen Time Lord to give him his son, which Koschei did without a second thought.  Rassilon wanted to close his eyes and savor the feeling of having his son in his arms once more, although once, just once, it would be nice if he wasn’t unconscious or dead.  Rassilon kissed the top of Jack’s head, running his fingers through the dark hair, as Koschei added, “Just how much was in that sedative anyhow?”

“Enough to take down a fully-grown elephant, so with Jack’s metabolism, he should be waking up in about five minutes or so.  I actually intended to use that sedative on you, if you decided to get manic.  Using it on my son wasn’t part of the plan, until you decided to goad him.  What were you thinking?  He could have killed you!” Rassilon fumed, stroking his son’s cheek lightly.  He was aware that he probably looked ridiculous, petting the face of his grown son, but he came to realize that petting and stroking could be quite relaxing.  And after the idiotic stunt Koschei just pulled, he needed all the relaxation he could get.

“I … wasn’t.  Thinking, that is.  I was a bit put out that Jack didn’t recognize me,” Koschei admitted, sounding more than a little sheepish.  Rassilon barely managed to keep from rolling his eyes, especially when Koschei added, sounding more than a little surprised, “So, you knocked your son unconscious because you were afraid Jack would choke me to death.”  Rassilon smiled a bit grimly, appreciating that Koschei was referring to his son by his name, rather than one of his appalling ‘nicknames.’

“Indeed.  As it happened, it was unnecessary, but each life my son takes weighs on him,” Rassilon answered, brushing a lock of hair away from his child’s brow.  Koschei’s jaw dropped and Rassilon added, “You would have regenerated.  I did it for him, not for you.”  Koschei closed his mouth with a snap, as Rassilon continued, “Understand me, and understand me well, Koschei.  I regret what I did to you.  I do.  But if it comes to a choice between you and my son, I _will_ choose my son.  You’ve had many chances to get it right.  This is your last one.”

Koschei’s jaw worked for a long moment, obviously not pleased with the Prime’s words, but then he ducked his head and murmured, “Understood, my Lord President.”  He looked back up at Rassilon, sighing, “And you’re right.  I have had more chances than just about anyone … and taunting Jack like that was a foolish thing to do.   My Lord President … I noticed something, or rather a lack of something.  Jack … he feels differently.  He …” Koschei was interrupted when Jack awoke as he came back to life, gasping for breath and thoroughly disoriented.  Rassilon held him tightly, partly to calm him and partly to make sure that he didn’t accidently (on purpose) clout Koschei, much as the younger Time Lord might deserve it.

As it was, his youngest son growled at his former tormentor and Rassilon touched his cheek once more, drawing Jack’s attention back to himself.  The blue eyes focused on him, and Jack murmured, “Ray Zilon.  Rassilon, first among Time Lords.  I’ve heard of you … brilliant, mad Rassilon.  Never thought I’d meet you while you were pretending to be a gardener in a former lover’s estate.”  The Prime touched his son’s cheek again, with infinite tenderness.  He guessed that his little boy wasn’t yet feeling up to flirting with him.  As it turned out, he thought that a little bit too soon, because a moment later, Jack added, “I’d forgotten how attractive you were.  Maybe didn’t notice the first time, since I’d just been gassed to death repeatedly.”

Rassilon ignored Koschei’s somewhat disgusted look, since Jack had no idea that he was flirting with his own father (yet), and instead replied, “I’m flattered, little one … but as beautiful as you are yourself, I’ll have to turn down your kind offer.”  He wished now that he’d done things differently the second time they met, as Time Lord and Time Agent during the Time War, but at the time, he was protecting his son, even though there were many Time Lords who knew of Jack’s bloodline.  What was past was past, and what was past was prologue, and he needed to worry about the here and now.

“Too bad.  So, what can I do for the First of the modern Time Lords?” Jack asked hoarsely.  He added with a frown, “And do you know what happened to me?   I don’t get sick … well, not very often.”  Koschei snickered and Jack growled, “You and I have unfinished business, _Master_.  Enjoy this while you can.”  Koschei abruptly stopped laughing (wisest action he’d taken yet), and Jack continued, “And while I’m thinking about it, why can you stand to be close to me?  I’ve been very reliably informed that I’m Wrong, that it’s painful for a Time Lord to look at me.”

Rassilon bristled … but not enough for Jack to notice.  Instead, he looked over his child’s head to Koschei and asked simply, “Theta?”  When Koschei nodded, Rassilon told his son, “You aren’t Wrong.  You’re a Fixed Point in Time and Space, but you aren’t Wrong.  If you were Wrong, I would have ended you while you were unconscious.”  Son or not, Rassilon would have done it.  He was rewarded with a small smile from his son, and Rassilon repeated, “You are _not_ Wrong.  And even if you were, that wasn’t your choice.  Being near you causes me no pain … and, you are not causing Koschei pain, either.  And let’s get you up from the floor.”

“That’s what I was seeing … the absence of disgust,” Jack murmured as Koschei and Rassilon both helped him to his feet.  He looked from one Time Lord to the other, saying, “What’s happened?”  Well, that covered a great deal of ground!  Jack continued, blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully, “And while we’re on the subject … you … we’ve met before.  Not just at Angelo’s estate, but before then.  I’ve always thought that it was the Time Agency who took those two years of memories … but it wasn’t.”  Behind Jack, Koschei was making faces and Rassilon wished he could reach around his son to slap the back of the younger Time Lord’s head.

“You are indeed correct, child.  And yes, to me, you are a child.  Both of you are.  The first thing you need to know, little one, is that you did _nothing_ wrong.  I know that fear has haunted you from the moment you woke up, so long ago.  But you did nothing wrong, you committed no crime.  Instead, there were crimes committed against you.  When Theta-Nine left you on the Game Station, it was not the first time you were harmed by the action of a Time Lord.  The truth is, Jack … you fought in the Time War.  I knew of your Time Agency, and I requested you specifically,” Rassilon answered, his voice trembling.  It was the moment of truth, and he had no idea if he was ready.

His son asked the most obvious question, “Why?”  His brow furrowed and for a moment, Rassilon saw the infant lying in the arms of the Time Lord he trusted above all others.  Jack shook his head, saying, “I was just a kid from the Boeshane Peninsula … I was good at my job, sure, but I wasn’t the best at anything.  You could have gotten anyone in the Time Agency.  Why me?”  There was no insecurity in Jack’s tone … he was simply telling the truth as he understood it to be.  Jack added, almost to himself, “And why do I believe you?  I don’t even know you.”

“You _do_ know me, child.  You don’t remember knowing me, but you do,” Rassilon answered hoarsely, both of his hearts pounding in his chest.  Koschei backed off, giving the father and son some much needed room.  He swallowed hard and told his child, “It’s long past time for you to get those memories of yours back.  Are you ready?”  Jack’s eyes flickered away as he thought about that.  Rassilon didn’t push the boy.  He’d had so long to let go of his bitterness and resentment.  But the questions remained in his mind, and slowly, Jack nodded.  Rassilon smiled tenderly at his little boy, fingers lightly caressing his temples, and said, “Then close your eyes, my little one.  I’ll allow no harm to come to you.  Close your eyes and **remember**.”

Jack’s blue eyes flickered, before closing all together.  Rassilon murmured, “That’s it.  You’re safe here, sweet boy.”  Koschei watched with a slightly troubled expression … no doubt, because he was remembering his own encounter with the young man, so many years ago.  The drums deafened him to those memories.  While Koschei never had much use for humanity, aside from a lure to annoy the Doctor, the Master was the first Time Lord to realize who Jack was … and he swore to Rassilon that he would allow no harm to come to his young Prince.  When Rassilon asked why, the Master smiled humorlessly and replied, ‘ _because if that young ape is hurt or worse, killed, your rage would end the universe.  And as you’ve noticed, I rather like living_.’

Koschei was evidently remembering that as well, for his lips formed the words, ‘ _So long as I draw breath, no harm shall come to your son_.’  He shook his head, mouthing, _‘so much for my promises_.’  But he turned and walked away, standing at the door to keep watch.  The Prime wouldn’t be surprised if his agent didn’t go back in time and have a word with that particular incarnation … and then unleash him on his previous incarnation.  If he did, he was fairly certain that Jack would sell tickets.  Rassilon closed his eyes, focusing on his son’s brilliant, amazing mind … found the lock which he needed … and turned the key.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

_So long as I draw breath, no harm shall come to your son.  Well … so much for that vow_!  Then again, once that worthless idiot took the shot that nearly killed Jack, Koschei’s promise was broken.  Of course, he was away from the young prince’s side at the time, checking into something that caught Jack’s attention, and thus, neither Prime nor prince held it against him.  But the fact remained that Jack was harmed while supposedly under Koschei’s protection.   That promise was broken further on the Valiant, and Koschei shuddered as he remembered.

When they met again, after so many centuries, he told his old friend that he ran during the Time War.  That actually didn’t happen until after Rassilon’s son nearly died in his arms.  It wasn’t the first time he was less than honest with Theta, and he was quite certain that it wouldn’t be the last.  And as he said, it wasn’t even that he cared about what happened to Jack, but he did care about his own skin.  Rassilon told that foolish Colasanto bitch whom Koschei so enjoyed tormenting that if a father was powerful enough, he could make the world tremble before his rage.  The truth was, if Jack died, Rassilon would have ended the whole universe.

Since he and Rassilon were freed from the Time Lock (which evidently had to do as much with an old friend of Rassilon’s as much as the need for balance in the universe), Koschei learned far more about what went on after the Lord President sent him away.  And that, he learned, wasn’t because of his failure to protect Jack at all … but because Rassilon even then feared that victory in the Time War would come at too high of a price, and he had to ensure that at least one Time Lord survived … even if that Time Lord was the Master. 

Koschei thought briefly about being insulted by that caveat, and then ruefully admitted that if only one member of your race could survive, your first choice wouldn’t be one who was obsessed with immortality and causing trouble for his old school friend.  On the contrary, it would be the aforementioned old school friend, since he was the only one … 

Koschei’s mind stuttered to a stop, especially when he saw Rassilon’s smirk.  Koschei sighed and observed, “Well, I guess I should give up the title of ‘Master,’ because you’re the real Master.”  Rassilon roared with laughter and toasted Koschei, before his young assistant (who once worked for Jack) refilled his water glass.  He eventually retired to Jack’s caravan to tinker, giving Koschei time alone with Suzie … alone time which they both _very_ much enjoyed.  Now there was a young lady who was quite inventive in bed.  Koschei wondered what would have happened if she was his chosen consort, rather than Lucy, and then dismissed it … Suzie was dead at the time.  A pity, too … he could imagine the fun they would have had.  

A choked-back cry from Jack had him turning back toward the father and son, and Koschei shuddered as Rassilon returned his son’s memories to him.  He remembered those times all too well … remembered how that oh-so-young Jack Harkness (though that wasn’t the name he used then) could make him laugh; remembered the days and nights the father and son would spend in Rassilon’s laboratory; and above all, remembered his Prime’s fury as his youngest child nearly died in Koschei’s arms after that fool attacked him.  It seemed that he was trying to provoke Rassilon into a rage.  He succeeded … and doomed himself.  Koschei was still unclear about the details … he was too busy trying to prevent Jack’s death, and he really didn’t care about what happened to anyone stupid enough to cross Rassilon.

 Koschei’s hearts nearly broke when he heard his prince choke out, “So I didn’t do anything wrong?”  _Captain Jack Harkness should never sound like that_ , he thought a bit numbly, _not even when I killed him repeatedly did he ever sound like that.  No matter how badly I hurt him, I never made him sound like that_.  Jack went on, sounding shocked and shattered and hopeful and heartbroken, “I was so afraid I’d done something terrible.  I told Rose that maybe the Doctor was right not to trust me.”

“You weren’t the guilty party, child … I was.  And for that, I am beyond sorry.  There … there is one more secret that must be told,” Rassilon said quietly.  For the first time since awakening as a sane Time Lord (no drums or a desire for immortality), Koschei saw fear in his Prime’s expression.  He feared being rejected by his child, and rather than rejoice in the older Time Lord’s weakness, rather than scorn Rassilon for his vulnerability, Koschei felt something far more unexpected:  compassion.

But there was another surprise in store.  By now, Koschei knew, he really should be used to them.  The Impossible Man and his father would always be good for surprises.  Jack answered simply, “You’re my father.  Yes, Papa.  I remember.”  Now it was Rassilon’s turn to cry out, as he cupped his son’s face in his hands.  It made Koschei’s hearts hurt to see, but this was a good ache.  _Oh, bloody hell_ , he thought with no small amount of chagrin, _I’m turning into the Doctor_!  He looked away once more as Rassilon peppered his youngest child’s face with kisses, before pulling Jack into his arms once more.  There were some things that you just weren’t meant to see, and that topped the list so far as the once-insane Time Lord was concerned.

Then again, that was par for the course so far as this odd little family was concerned.  Koschei’s mind seized on that.  Family.  The Families.  He knew that his one-time partners in crime were still around and still intent on causing trouble.  At the time, it seemed like a good idea, partnering with the Families to create a new Gallifrey.  And that particular self, who was the counterpart to the Doctor’s third, fourth and fifth incarnations, was far saner than his most recent incarnation.  And talk about damning with faint praise, as the humans were so fond of saying!

Well, there was no help for it.  Because when he and Rassilon were freed from the Time Lock, when he was healed of the drums, something that was missing found its way into his psyche and ended his fascination with, his desire for, immortality.  He still didn’t know what Rassilon did to him, but he now realized that immortality was more of a curse than a blessing.  Koschei thought about what he did to Jack on the Valiant during that Year, and for the first time, he realized that as an immortal, _he_ could well fall victim to another with similar designs and designs.  He was a Time Lord, yes, but as a Time Lord, he wasn’t infallible or invulnerable.  He thought about a young immortal who endured a Year of torment and experimentation, and yet was still sane at the end of that time.  Not unscathed, no.  Far from it.  But he was sane, and Koschei knew that under the exact same conditions, he couldn’t have said the same thing.

He realized now, too, that it would ultimately be his responsibility to bring down the Families.  Jack stopped them once, and would continue stopping them, but it wasn’t Jack who created the situation:  it was Koschei.  That made it Koschei’s responsibility.  With a small smile, he realized the trouble he could cause now that he was truly sane.  And he _would_ cause trouble for the Doctor … just as he would cause trouble for the Families.  He helped to create the Families by showing them the Gap in the world and helping them to create the Miracle … it would be Koschei who would sow the seeds for their ultimate and final destruction.

For the first time since looking into the Untempered Schism as a young child, thus birthing his dreams and desires for immortality, Koschei had a purpose.  His purpose was to bring about the end of the Families.  Not because he cared anything about Earth or about the apes, but because no being, whether Time Lord or human, should have access to that kind of power … power he gave them.  And he could continue to annoy and harry and otherwise aggravate the Doctor, because really, even mostly-sane Time Lords needed a hobby, aside from fornicating with lovely, long-legged humans who were trying for redemption. 

And speaking of Suzie … Rassilon had what he wanted.  His son was back in his arms, with his memories restored.  Koschei closed his eyes for a moment, searching the time lines to see if his Prime would need him in the foreseeable future.  Excellent.  He and his son would spend the next several hours catching up and learning about each other.  Koschei happened to know that against Rassilon’s orders, Suzie followed them to this quaint little town in Oklahoma and was in fact staying in a hotel on the outskirts.  There was no telling what kind of mischief the two of them could make in the next few hours.  With that in mind, Koschei slipped out of the building, allowing Rassilon this much needed time with his son.

 

 TBC                                                          


	3. Breath of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rassilon undoes yet another Torchwood loss (I keep my promises), that lost lamb is reunited with some of his former teammates; Koschei puts his foot in his mouth, and Rassilon begins laying groundwork of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a reminder, in case anyone is just joining us. ‘Prime and Prince’ is the next story in the ‘Birthright’ series, which began with ‘The Rising.’ If you are just joining us, welcome aboard … ‘Birthright’ is my post-Miracle Day series, which attempts to make sense out of that hot mess. The previous stories were: ‘The Rising,’ ‘Torn Asunder,’ ‘The Sleeper Awakens,’ ‘The Homecoming,’ ‘Reap the Whirlwind,’ ‘To Whom Much is Given,’ ‘The Hidden Child,’ and ‘What’s Inside,’ which is a companion story, really. You may want to go read those first, to avoid getting lost. Or, you can go read them after ‘Prime and Prince,’ whatever is easiest for you. Now, don’t get your hopes up for a reunion with the rest of the team in Oklahoma. That will happen eventually, but not for a while. Remember what Rassilon told Tosh in the previous story about Companions and a reunion with Owen and Jack later? Same holds true for this situation. For now, just enjoy this character’s return. The next chapter will be the final one, and that sees a confrontation between Rassilon and Eleven … among other things. Once the finale is posted, I’ll get to work on the prologue of ‘The Two Captains,’ which will be posted in the ‘Torchwood’ category, rather than crossovers.

London, England

Temporary Morgue for Thames House victims

2009

 

 

This place, quite literally, _stank_ of death.  There was no kinder way of putting it, he thought, wrinkling his nose with distaste.  There were times when he thought the demented dictator whom he pretended to be with Theta-Ten had a point, but only because pure spirits didn’t have the issue of decomposition.  Not that Rassilon had that particular problem … he was asleep for millennia upon millennia.  Regardless, this room stank of death, and he wanted to leave this horrible place as soon as possible and return to his hiding place, return to his new companion (who was so bravely settling in and trying to come to terms with this strange and familiar new world).  However, before he could leave, he had several tasks to accomplish.

He learned a great deal since arriving on Earth with Koschei, after being freed from the Time Lock.  One thing that he learned rather quickly, thanks to that infernal Miracle, was that humanity was no different from Time Lords when it came to death.  Or rather, they were as uncomfortable with death as certain Time Lords (such as the Master) were.  Humanity actually had an interesting relationship with death:  cemeteries tended to be peaceful, tranquil places … while morgues, where bodies were stored until it was time for the burial (or cremation) to take place, were cold and sterile.  Such as the one he was in right now.  It was a temporary morgue, true enough, but it was still cold and still sterile.

Rassilon, Lord President of Gallifrey, shook his head as he looked around the morgue.  So many dead.  There was one, though … one in particular for whom he was here.  And he should be … ah, right there.  With barely a sound, Rassilon removed the blanket to reveal the still body of a young man, a young man who was still very dear to his son’s heart.  The Time Lord studied the boy’s face.  Quite handsome, if he was any judge of such things, but his face wouldn’t provide a clue as to why his son loved him.  _No_ , Rassilon thought with a smile, _he must be awake for that_.  Fortunately, his spirit only left his body in the last few hours … and he did have a connection to the Resurrection Gauntlet, however tenuous.  A connection was all that was required … and oh, that was a delightful surprise!  There was the barest hint of artron energy in the youngster’s body.  The Time Lord smiled to himself.  That was even better.

Cradling the boy’s face in his hands, Rassilon lightly brushed his lips against the young man’s, whispering, “ _Breathe_ , child … breathe and live once more.”  He breathed his own breath into the child, inflating his lungs and expelling the poison (the virus) that stole his life.  The youngster’s lungs expanded and his heart began to beat … a bit sluggishly, but it was there.  Rassilon smiled, patting his cheek, and murmured, “Good boy.  Now, just stay asleep a little longer … your body needs additional time to heal.”  He lifted the young man from the drawer, settling him on the gurney, and then turned his attention to the bundle at his feet.  That part was actually the easiest. 

With equal care, he lifted the long bundle from the floor and eased it onto the recently-vacated slab.  It only took him a few moments, but Rassilon had little fear of that.  He created his own little Time Lock, a bubble of time to do what he needed to do.  And this part was just as necessary as the first part of the task.  He knew from listening to his son that this boy would have a funeral, and he couldn’t afford to interfere with that part of the timeline.  Rassilon had many friends throughout the cosmos, who happily assisted with this particular project.  There were planets, and times, where creating simulated humans was an art form ... not so different from the mannequins of today.  He only had to provide the specifications.  They did the rest.

He touched the mannequin’s cheek, gratified to find it felt like a human’s skin, and murmured, “You were created for a purpose, little one, and today, you fulfill that purpose.”  He still wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to do about the other victims of today’s events.  Did they deserve another chance at life?  That wasn’t a decision he had to make today, however.  After all, he had time.  He had all the time in the world.  Giving the mannequin’s cheek one last pat, Rassilon covered the ‘body’ once more and returned his attention to the boy on the gurney.  He lifted his newest companion into his arms, cradling him against his chest as if he was a small child, and said, “And as for you, young one, you have not yet fulfilled your own purpose.  That is part of the reason I am here … but only part, mind you.”

There were more battles for this youngster to fight, but the earliest of those battles would be fought at Rassilon’s side.  He still had so much to learn, and on the flip side, he had so much to teach Rassilon.  As the Time Lord Prime closed his eyes and opened a window into 2012, he murmured, “I look forward to whatever you will teach me, Ianto Jones.  I have so very much to learn about humanity.  Things I can’t learn from my son, though there are many things I _will_ learn from him, and already have.”  There was a small moan, and Rassilon smiled.  Excellent.  The boy’s strength was already returning.  Rassilon was still debating about connecting with an earlier version of Angelo Colasanto.  If he did, it would be necessary to keep him and the young man Rassilon carried separate.  The issue wouldn’t be jealousy, as Rassilon’s son might think, but protectiveness … and guilt … on both sides.

He was actually less concerned about Ianto Jones … the boy had a terrifying amount of self-control.  There were times when he wondered if the young Welshman was, in fact, a Time Lord who escaped the madness of the Time War and hid within the safety of the Chameleon Arch.  It was possible, he supposed, but highly unlikely.  Rassilon knew better than to say ‘ _impossible_ ,’ unlike some of his more foolish children.  Or worse yet, ‘ _wrong_.’  Rassilon scowled as he stepped into the Colasanto compound in 2012 (as it was figured in the Western world) with Ianto Jones in his arms.  He still needed to have a conversation with Theta about that name-calling.  He already spoke with Koschei … next, it would be Theta’s turn.  Rassilon smiled patiently as Toshiko jumped to her feet, crying out Ianto’s name.  Oh.  This would be far easier than he expected!

 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

Colasanto Compound, Nevada

June 2012 

 

 

Being dead was far different than he anticipated.  For one thing, it wasn’t the nothingness he heard described by Jack, Owen, and Suzie (although, in truth, _anything_ Suzie said was suspect).  On the contrary, it was actually pleasant.  For instance … well, it was warm.  For some reason, he always imagined nothingness as being cold, cold like outer space.  But maybe it was just an urban myth … or extraterrestrial myth?  Working for Torchwood completely changed what you knew and how you saw things.  That was one thing that surprised him about death.  For another, a gentle hand was stroking over his hair.  And if this was heaven, heaven smelled of … oh.  Oh, now he knew that he _was_ in heaven … he recognized that fragrance!  It was Tosh’s perfume.  There was a soft sigh, and then a familiar voice (that didn’t belong to Tosh) murmured, “It’s been three days … he should be awake by now.  It didn’t take you this long to wake up after Rassilon brought you back.”

Well, that was a little odd.  More than a little odd, actually.  What was Suzie doing here?  Tosh said softly, before he could further ponder that particular oddity, “You and I were both dead for some time before he reunited our body and soul, Suzie.  Ianto was dead for maybe an hour or two, three at most, and his body just needs a little more time to heal, that’s all.  Besides, Rassilon told us that we shouldn’t worry until he’d been unconscious for a week.  Like you said … it’s been three days.”  There was a long pause, and then Tosh said in a small voice, “That was how long Jack was dead after Abaddon.”   His heart hurt a little, hearing that old pain resurfacing once more in Tosh’s voice.

Suzie murmured, “Oh, Tosh.  I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you all.  On second thought, perhaps it’s just as well I wasn’t.  I might have made things worse.”  Worse?  Not possible.  Ianto amended that quickly.  Actually, it was possible, now that he thought about it … Jack could have not woken up at all after destroying Abaddon.  And that thought terrified him into waking up.  Or something.  He found himself bolting upright, as if waking from a particularly horrifying nightmare … or as Jack did when he returned to life.  A pair of warm, strong, comforting arms wrapped around him and the scent of Tosh’s perfume grew stronger as he was drawn to rest against an equally warm body.

“Easy, Ianto … don’t try to do too much,” Tosh whispered, her voice somewhere over his head.  He found his own arms sliding around his best friend, albeit somewhat clumsily.  He felt a pair of soft lips brushing the top of his head, and Tosh murmured, “Oh, I’ve missed you so much!”  Ianto clung to Tosh as much as his still wobbly arms would allow, at least until she pulled away reluctantly, and for the first time, Ianto saw the dark-haired woman standing just beyond her.  His hearing hadn’t been playing tricks on him.  It really was Suzie Costello, in the flesh.

She smiled at him a bit shyly, saying, “Hi, Ianto.”  The young man blinked at her, not entirely sure how to react.  She never paid that much attention to him while he was alive … or so it seemed at the time … and Ianto wanted it that way.  But now.  Suzie was smiling at him.  Shyly.  Ianto didn’t think she was capable of shy, but people could fool you.  He’d fooled Jack for months, after all.  Suzie forged ahead, looking more than a little uncomfortable, “I don’t blame you if you … if …”  She surged to her feet (he thought she was standing.  Oh.  He was lying in a bed, after all) and stalked away.

“Suzie … calm down.  He just woke up, and if you’ll recall correctly, _I_ wasn’t thinking especially clearly when I first woke up,” Tosh commanded and Ianto blinked at her in astonishment.  He never heard that note in her voice before … at least, not that he could remember.  Suzie hesitated and then returned to their side, kneeling in front of Ianto once more.  Tosh said softly, “I know you have a lot of questions, Ianto, but the first thing you need to understand is that we’re alive.  All four of us … you, me, Suzie, even Owen.”  Ianto stared at her for several moments.  They were alive.

He wanted to make a clever comment, a dry quip designed to put Owen or Gwen or even Jack in his place.  He wanted … he wanted Tosh to be right.  But instead of clever or pithy, he asked hoarsely, “How is this possible?  I died with Jack, in Thames House.  How can this be real?  How can you be real?  You’re alive, I’m alive, Suzie’s alive … how is any of this possible?  Did we catch immortality from Jack?”  Unexpectedly, Suzie laughed aloud at that, although there was nothing cruel or malicious in the sound. 

“Now, that sounds like a familiar question.  Oh yes, that’s because it’s nearly the same question that Suzie asked when she awakened a few months ago,” an unfamiliar voice said.  It was a man’s voice, and both girls helped him to sit up properly. The first thing that occurred to Ianto was how much he resembled Jack.  The second thing that he noticed was the odd way he dressed … in a dressing gown. Or what resembled one, an old dressing gown.  The man smiled at him, saying, “I know what you’re thinking, Ianto Jones.  You’re thinking, _why is that old fool wearing a dressing gown_?  And you’d be right.  It’s only in my caravan that I dress like this … yes, Suzie, yes, it is my son’s caravan.  And I dress like this because this is the closest I can come to the clothes I wore at home.”

Suzie muttered something under her breath, and Tosh looked vaguely horrified.  But the man looked amused, rather than upset, and said, “Quite right, my dear.  I have yet to introduce myself.  I am Rassilon, Lord President of Gallifrey, first among Time Lords … but the title I’m most proud of is, father of Jack Harkness.”  Oh, that was quite impressive … what?  _Wait, what_?  Ianto looked at this Rassilon again, wondering if his butler mask slipped to show the absolute astonishment he was feeling.  Rassilon beamed at him, saying, “Yes, Ianto Jones.  I am Jack’s father.  And that is why I saved you … why I saved all of you.”

“Well, that makes sense,” Ianto said a bit numbly, still not up to his usual standards.  Then again, he supposed he could be forgiven for that.  He wasn’t entirely sure what the etiquette for dying and coming back to life, and meeting your lover’s father … especially since to the best of Jack’s knowledge, his father was dead and human, rather than a very alive Time Lord.  That meant Jack was only half-human, not that it made much of a difference to Ianto.  Rassilon merely beamed at him.  Rassilon, who was a Time Lord.  Ianto asked, “You … you’re a Time Lord.  Like the Doctor … are you related?”  Hmm.  That was an interesting question, and he wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted the answer to be.

“Ianto, Rassilon is sort of the … well, he’s the first of the modern Time Lords.  Some venerate him … others fear him.  It seems to me that runs in the family,” Tosh explained, adding the last comment with a cheeky smile in Rassilon’s direction.  The Time Lord merely smiled and inclined his head.  Ianto blinked once again.  He heard once that if one was dead for too long, there was resulting brain damage when the individual came back to life.  He wondered if that was the case right now. 

“My dear, while there are those who fear my son … those who are right to fear my son … there are far fewer who venerate him.  Respect him, absolutely.  Love him, without question.  But not venerate, and rightfully so.  I am not a god.  In fact, as the Ninth incarnation of the Doctor once said, he would make a lousy god, which is true of all Time Lords.  Jack will avoid the pitfalls that we dove into headlong,” Rassilon answered.  Tosh smiled and shrugged, and Ianto stared at her in shock.  She was handling this well … how long had she been alive once more?

Perhaps seeing his expression, Suzie took pity on his obvious confusion and said, “Maybe we should start at the beginning.  When that bitch put the bomb inside Jack and blew up him and the Hub, Tosh’s cryo-unit took some damage, but it wasn’t catastrophic.  A former lover of Jack’s, one Angelo Colasanto, had his men retrieve Tosh’s cryo-unit, and whatever they could salvage from the ruins of the Hub, and brought everything here, to his compound.  It turns out that he’s been watching over Jack ever since the late twenties or early thirties.”

Ianto blinked at that statement, and Suzie added with a sigh, “It’s kind of a long story, but Angelo betrayed Jack terribly … there were several deaths in one night, and by the end of the night, Angelo regretted it.  He rescued Jack.  But while Jack forgave Angelo, his trust in him was shattered.  It took Angelo some time to accept that, and once he did, he committed himself to stopping those who benefitted from his betrayal … and to protecting Jack.  We’re at his estate now.”  Now Ianto’s head began to ache as he tried to process this new information. 

Rassilon interposed, “The important thing is, the Colasanto compound is our base of operations.  As I explained to Toshiko when she awakened, Suzie is assisting Angelo’s grandson Liam with the logistics of turning the compound into the American version of Flat Holm.  Yes, child.  A new Rift has opened in Oklahoma, after Jack closed the one in Cardiff after your death.”  Wait … Jack closed the Rift in Cardiff?  How did _that_ happen?  Rassilon continued, “Perhaps I should do as Suzie suggested and start at the beginning.”

“That would probably be the best place to start,” Ianto answered dryly.  He flushed, realizing he’d just mouthed off to a being who was powerful enough to bring him back to life after he died.  However, Rassilon merely smiled at him, and Ianto sighed, “That would be most welcome, my Lord … wait.  What do I call you?  The Time Lords I’ve heard of use a … well, a title.  The Doctor, the Master, the Rani, the Meddler.  But you have an actual name?”  He tried to think of what he found in the Archives, both in Cardiff and London.  True enough, most of the information was about the Doctor, but there was some information that … leaked over … from UNIT.  Not that Ianto knew anything about that.

Suzie and Tosh exchanged a look, and Rassilon repeated, “We’ll start from the beginning, young one.  And yes, to me, you are young, beyond young.  I don’t think there’s a number large enough to describe how old I am.  The trouble is, what is the beginning?  That day Jack was born?  His first death on Satellite Five when he was killed by Daleks, and then brought back by Rose Tyler?  The Doctor’s abandonment of him there because he was ‘wrong?’  The founding of Torchwood as a result of the Tenth Doctor and Rose Tyler’s childishness?”

“Why don’t we start with the end?  My death?” Ianto inquired.  Rassilon thought about that for a moment, and then inclined his head in agreement.  Oh.  Very good.  The likelihood of brain damage as a result of a prolonged death was vanishing with each passing moment.  He blinked in astonishment as Tosh sat down on one side of him, and Suzie took the other.  She smiled at him warmly, taking his hand, and then all three returned their attention to Rassilon.  And he, as it turned out, had a great deal to tell them.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

Over the next few hours, Rassilon began his education of his companions.  And there was a great deal to tell them.  They needed to know what Jack went through after the loss of nearly everyone and _everything_ he loved.  He detailed his son’s closing of the Rift, and his eventual departure from Earth once he was sure the citizens of Cardiff wouldn’t suffer in his absence.

Some of it Toshiko and Suzie knew … but much of it was news to Toshiko.  She swung back and forth between looking horrified and furious.  And Ianto … Ianto didn’t seem to know how to react to what Jack saw and experienced in the House of the Dead.  Rassilon didn’t give him time to react, though.  This was much bigger than Ianto Jones.  Come to that, it was much bigger than Jack (and Rassilon promised himself that he would never say such a thing to his son … knowing his youngest, he would have a sly or not-so-sly innuendo in response).

He told them about the Miracle, about those horrible two months when Angelo Colasanto was the only human being who died (while millions _wished_ they could die) … about the betrayal that led to the Miracle (taking note of the horror in Ianto Jones’ young face Rassilon detailed what was done to his son that night (and ultimately deciding that now was not the best time to approach Angelo Colasanto if he had to return to this time), and about the years the émigré spent afterward, trying to atone for what he’d done by watching over Jack. He concluded with the rescue of Esther Drummond after Miracle Day … leaving out his own part in it.  Well, aside from the recruitment of Kate Lethbridge-Stewart and Alicia Yates.  He also didn’t tell what Alicia Yates was doing now to create a support system for the next time the Families rose.  And of course he knew about that.  That played into his decision to recruit her … he saw her timeline, and knew what she was meant to do.

As it turned out, it was a good thing that he chose not to arrange a meeting between Ianto Jones and Angelo Colasanto.  Koschei returned from the helicarrier, flush from another session of tormenting Olivia Colasanto … and made the very unfortunate mistake in bragging about how he proved once again that he was the Master.  Honestly, did the boy never learn?  Ianto froze in his seat, blue eyes narrowing.  Suzie and Toshiko exchanged a glance, before moving closer to the young Welshman.  Not that Rassilon thought it would do any good.  The youngster asked in a (terrifyingly) neutral voice, “The Master?  As in, the Time Lord?”

Koschei blinked at him, as if noticing the newcomer for the first time, and replied, “Well, yes.  You look terribly familiar, have we met before?”  Rassilon would have face-palmed, if he wasn’t so determined to grab Ianto before he did something foolish … like beating Koschei into his next regeneration.  His concern was more for Ianto than Koschei … his foolish child might actually learn to engage his brain before opening his mouth.  This incarnation of the former Master still had Master-like tendencies … thoroughly enjoyed causing mischief, especially with Suzie (and if those two thought he didn’t know about Suzie following them to Dupres, he would enjoy disabusing them of that notion).  But in terms of his interaction with others, he was at worst, thoughtless.  Theta’s tenth self would have said rude (since he was rude himself), and he would have been right.  Rassilon thought about Koschei’s current self and Theta’s previous self … and shuddered.  That … would have been horrifying.

However, Koschei’s next words were even worse.  Actually sounding delighted, he continued, “Oh, I remember you now!  You were Handsome Jack’s precious one.  I remember how he carried on when my Toclafane tore you apart … eurgh!”  Unfortunately (well, for Koschei), Ianto managed to pull free of Toshiko and Suzie, and decked Koschei.  He managed to punch the younger Time Lord to the ground before Rassilon managed to grab him by the waist and pull him back.  Suzie and Toshiko were actually clutching each other as they watched Rassilon wrestle Ianto away from Koschei.  Not too surprisingly, Ianto continued to kick at the fallen man, hissing imprecations in Welsh.  At least, Rassilon assumed it was Welsh … the boy was an archivist, after all, and there was no telling how many languages he knew.

And Koschei ( _thank the stars_!) realized what he’d done and said, muttering under his breath, “Bloody hell, I’m sounding like that idiot Doctor!  I won’t say that I didn’t deserve that, ‘cause I did.  I hurt Jack, and I completely annihilated your team during the Year.”  Suzie looked down at her hands.  Oh.  Of course.  Rassilon should have remembered that.  She was with Jack during that Year, and she would remember the Year that never was.  Rassilon could feel Ianto trembling in his embrace, and Koschei continued after a look from the Prime, “No.  No, I did worse than that.  I tortured Jack.  In my previous incarnations, I might have simply hurt him to get him out of the way or to induce the Doctor to do what I wanted, but my last self tortured him.”

“I know.  I held him through the nightmares and I could do far worse to you!” Ianto snarled.  However, he made no further attempts to pull free, and Rassilon’s grasp on the young man became more comforting … and supportive, because it was at that moment that Ianto’s legs gave out on him.  Not so surprising, really, considering he’d been dead and only just woke up in the last forty minutes.  Rassilon picked up the shaking man and carried him back to the bed, where Suzie and Toshiko immediately began to fuss over him.  However, Ianto’s eyes never left Koschei, who slowly pulled himself to his feet.

“There’s no doubt in my mind that you could do far worse to me, lad,” he said (and if Rassilon was a bit amused that Koschei’s balance wasn’t back yet, well, that was his business).  The younger Time Lord drew up alongside Rassilon, careful not to approach Ianto (who was still glaring at him), Suzie (who looked murderous), and Toshiko (who looked confused, but determined to back up her friends), and continued, “That fool Doctor was inclined to babble about how sorry he was, so I won’t say how sorry I am for what I did to all of you.  Nor will I lie and say that Jack has forgiven me.  He hasn’t.  Nor should he.  While he may eventually forgive me for what I did to him, there’s also the matter of others on the Valiant whom I harmed.  I can’t even tell you that I won’t continue to cause trouble for the Doctor.  What I can tell you is that Rassilon has told me that if I ever harm Jack-or anyone under his protection-again, he’ll end me.  No more regenerations, that’s it.  I rather like life and living, and I believe him.  He’s _more_ than capable of it.”

“Now that, I can believe.  You’ve no more turned over a new leaf than I have,” Suzie observed.  Toshiko started to protest, but Suzie shook her head, saying, “ _No_ , Tosh.  Those traits within me that led to my corruptions, that convinced me that I should have the power of life and death … those flaws remain.  I haven’t changed, not really.  But now, I see them for the flaws that they are, and maybe I can overcome them.  I’m trying to, even though I find myself falling back into old habits.  And Koschei … he’s acting in enlightened self-interest.  He knows what Rassilon will do to him if his plots and schemes result in harm to those dear to Rassilon, and he’s quite fond of living.  He won’t jeopardize that.”

“Well stated.  Ianto Jones, please do everyone a favor … and rest.  I will have need of your skills later, and that will be singularly difficult if you’ve put yourself back into a coma,” Rassilon sighed, looking at the rather mulish young man.  Ianto opened his mouth, and then closed it again, as if he didn’t know what to say.  Thanking the stars for that small mercy, Rassilon turned back to his Time Lord lieutenant, saying, “Now, you were mentioning your most recent encounter with Olivia Colasanto?”  Not surprising, at his words, Suzie offered up a most evil smile.  Then again, she would … she thoroughly enjoyed their first mission, slipping aboard the SHIELD helicarrier to taunt the Colasanto heiress.

“Oh yes, my Lord President.  I also discovered something of interest. You were, I’m sure, that Philip Colasanto … or, as SHIELD knows him, Agent Philip Coulson … was badly injured during the recent attack on New York by the Chitauri?” Koschei asked and Rassilon nodded.  He was familiar with the attack and with the Chitauri themselves.  Koschei continued, “Well, once his condition was stabilized, Colonel Fury sent him to the residence of private citizens to continue his recovery.  And who, might you ask, would these private citizens be?  Why, none other than the Tregarth family!”

He was grinning manically by the time he was finished, although he was demonstrating the self-control to keep from leaping about in place, for which Rassilon was beyond grateful.  A glance back toward his new companions informed him that Suzie was grinning just as madly as her sometimes lover, Toshiko was nodding in relief (she had no idea whom Coulson was, but evidently she surmised that he was one of the good guys.  Which he was, even if Rassilon didn’t trust SHIELD as far as he could throw them), while Ianto simply looked lost.  The Time Lord Prime guessed from his expression that he wasn’t accustomed to feeling lost in that way. 

However, he left that part of the explanation to Toshiko and Suzie.  It seemed that he’d forgotten to mention that Jack now lived with the Tregarths and recreated Torchwood in Oklahoma.  Right.  He’d ended his narrative with Esther Drummond’s rescue, leaving out what happened after that.  Rassilon shook his head sadly.  _Silly thing to forget, really_.  And that was immediately driven out of his mind when Ianto asked determinedly, “Right.  We’re in Nevada, Jack’s in Oklahoma, when do we leave for Oklahoma?”

It was actually Toshiko who answered softly, “We don’t, Ianto.  At least, not _yet_ and not for some time.”  Rassilon winced as the young man’s head whipped around, but the tech repeated, “We don’t.  According to what I was told when I awakened, Rassilon is new to our planet, and he’s asked us to remain with him as his companions, teaching him what he needs to know about our cultures and traditions.  There are things that Jack has to do without us.  And there are things that we have to do without him.”

“Including growing up,” Koschei added helpfully.  Rassilon sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep from swatting the impudent Time Lord himself.  Koschei continued, “My Lord President, you know I speak the truth.  They are but children, really.  Including you, dear Suzie.”  Rassilon nodded … and much to his astonishment, so did Suzie.  Toshiko and Ianto merely stared at them in shock.  That conversation would have to wait for another day.   Right now, they were in danger of getting seriously off-track.  He thought again about Alicia Yates, and smiled to himself.  That … might work.

“What if I were to tell you children that we would be assisting Jack indirectly?” the Prime asked with a small smile.  Suzie raised her eyebrows at him questioningly, and while Ianto and Toshiko were glancing at each other, Rassilon dropped a sly wink in her direction.  She barely suppressed a smile, and Rassilon continued, “In the United Kingdom, there is a young woman … **do** stop laughing, Suzie, _everyone_ is young to me … a young woman who is seeking to create a network of allies to assist with the protection of humanity.  These allies would have no particular allegiance to Torchwood or to UNIT, but to the protection of humanity.  Further, they have the understanding that they aren’t warriors or soldiers, but they do have other talents.  There is no name for this network … it’s still early … but she can use all the help she can get.”

“You’re talking about a situation like the 456 or the Miracle, aren’t you?” Ianto questioned and Rassilon inclined his head.  The boy was silent for several moments, and Rassilon waited patiently, before saying, “When Tosh said that we wouldn’t reunite with Jack just yet, she really meant that we _couldn’t_.”  Again, Rassilon nodded.  Ianto sighed quietly, before saying, “Very well.  What should we do first?”  Suzie laughed outright at that, all but throwing herself back on the bed, drawing a confused look from Ianto.

“Before anything else, lad, _you_ need to recover your strength.  You were dead for several hours, and then you spent several days in a coma.  Although, admittedly, that didn’t prevent you from putting me on my arse,” Koschei answered ruefully.  Ianto just glowered at him, and Koschei continued (would he never stop digging when he was already in a hole?), “You decked me, while Jack had his hands around my throat, but did nothing more.  Well, aside from telling me when I asked if I had to kiss his boots to get him to believe me, ‘don’t tempt me.’  And I suppose I deserved that.  Extraordinary.  Just extraordinary.”

“And if you’re really _that_ desperate to keep busy while convalescing, Ianto, I could use help with our plans to turn this compound into an American Flat Holm.  The new owner’s idea, and I gotta say, the more I roam around, the better I like it.  Tosh can … I dunno, what will Tosh do, Rassilon?” Suzie asked thoughtfully.  Rassilon smiled as something occurred to him.  He needed to figure out the best way to do it (with regards to her identity), but a person couldn’t always work in their specialty.  Especially when that person used to be dead.  Yes.  Yes, he quite liked that idea.  And maybe she would be able to advise him on other things.

“Toshiko will assist me in the garden,” he replied.  The young woman in question stared at him, and Rassilon continued, “I wish to remain … oh, what is that phrase … under the radar?  Is that correct?  I wish to remain under the radar as long as possible.  If you were to access your accounts, that would send up a red herring and alert people to your return from the dead.  Until I have a chance to mitigate any potential damage, you can best assist us in the garden.”  The girl’s mouth continued to open and close for several moments, and Rassilon added as gently as he could, “Do not look at this as a demotion, but instead as a necessity for survival, dear girl.”

“He’s right, Tosh.  Until we can piggy back on Torchwood Oklahoma’s systems, anything else is out.  And Rassilon, I think you meant ‘red flag,’ instead of ‘red herring.’  A ‘red herring’ is what you use to throw someone off your trail,” Suzie observed, her lips twitching with amusement.  Rassilon glowered at the young woman, but couldn’t deny that she knew the lexicon far better than he did.  Suzie added, “Besides, we’re using a red herring by flying under the radar.”  Also something that he couldn’t deny, and Suzie inquired, “So.  I’m your niece, what are Tosh and Ianto?  Shall we make Ianto your son and Jack’s younger brother?”

Rassilon nearly laughed aloud at Ianto’s horrified expression … however, it was Koschei who mused, “No, as tempting as that may be.  Toshiko should be your daughter, my Lord Rassilon, the product of a dalliance after you lost your wife and son, to assuage your grief.”  Now four pairs of eyes were focused on Koschei, who shrugged a bit sheepishly and explained, “Olivia Colasanto absolutely hates romance novels, so of course, I have to read the most lurid bodice-rippers I can find to torment her.  It’s actually given me an all-new appreciation for humanity.  The imagination of some of these women … just extraordinary!”

Suzie coughed, Ianto arched an eyebrow, and Toshiko buried her face in Ianto’s shirt.  Suzie, however, negated the other woman’s attempts at containing her laughter when she dryly pointed out to her sometimes-lover, “You _do_ realize that some of those novelists are in fact men, Koschei, using a woman’s name?”  Toshiko flopped back against the bed, laughing hysterically; Ianto’s lips twitched with barely contained amusement; and the look of pure horror on Koschei’s face was something to behold.  Rassilon merely shook his head, not even attempting to contain his smile.  Ianto and Toshiko’s identities could wait until another day (but he had to admit, Koschei’s idea had merit).  There were other things to be done for now.

 

TBC


	4. So Much Done, So Much Left to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we have Rassilon suggesting a new way to torment Olivia Colasanto; followed by Eleven discovering something unexpected; and a weary Time Lord reflecting on what he’s accomplished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we have the final chapter of ‘Prime and Prince.’ The next story, as has been mentioned, will be titled, ‘The Two Captains: Brothers in Time,’ and will focus on the meeting between Captain Steve Rogers of the Avengers and Captain Jack Harkness of Torchwood, and the friendship that develops between them. That will also be the same story where it’s revealed to the Avengers that Agent Phil Coulson is still alive (just imagine how Steve will react … or better yet, Clint and Natasha. Especially Natasha. She’s a bit scary). I hope you’ve enjoyed the latest offering!

Former Colasanto Compound

June 2012 (the night Ianto Jones returned to life)

 

 

The children were asleep.  Rassilon smiled at how much that thought made him sound like their father.  Toshiko, not so surprisingly, decided that she wasn’t letting Ianto out of her sight.   What did surprise him was that she managed to cajole Koschei into helping her move her bed closer to Ianto’s, so she could sleep near her returned friend.  Ianto, for his own part, had no objection to that … he rolled onto his side, covering her hand with his own.  They talked until neither could keep their eyes open (Rassilon believed Ianto fell asleep in mid-sentence).  Further amusing Rassilon was Suzie fussing over her two teammates.  Her fussing made Toshiko giggle and Ianto roll his eyes.  However, he noted that neither rejected it.  Ianto might be uncomfortable with the woman, but he didn’t reject her.  Interesting.  Very, very interesting.

 Suzie went to bed a few hours later, nodding to Rassilon and kissing Koschei’s cheek, much to his astonishment (and Rassilon’s amusement).  Then, she swept into the bedroom she claimed as her own after Liam told her that this cottage was also Jack’s, leaving the two Time Lords alone at the table.  They were silent for several moments, before Koschei murmured, “Moving into this building was an excellent idea.  Once Toshiko was retrieved, the caravan became entirely too crowded.  Was it the bunkhouse?”  Rassilon shook his head, smiling slightly.  Koschei, to his credit, hesitated briefly before asking, “Do I want to know what it was originally, or would I be even more traumatized than I already am?”  Rassilon merely rolled his eyes at that.

 “Years ago, when Liam was an infant, it was the cottage where he and his parents lived with his older sister.  This was before their mother was killed, before their father Giacomo spun out of control.  It wasn’t among the original buildings that Jack requested, but Liam chose to give it to him, since his father was named after Jack.  Talia Colasanto’s idea, I should mention … not giving Jack this cottage, but naming their oldest son after Jack,” he explained.  He looked around the cottage … what was, at one time, a dining room.  It would be again, eventually … after they finished dealing with forty years of neglect.  Rassilon added, “Once he realized that Suzie and I both had a connection to Jack, he thought we should use it as our living quarters, since Jack doesn’t even know about it yet.”

 Koschei didn’t speak right away.  Once again, the first of the modern Time Lords was intrigued by the changes he noticed in the younger Time Lord.  Koschei was more thoughtful this time … less ruled by his impulses.  In some ways, he had the potential to be even more dangerous than his previous self.  That version of the Master was a bit of a loose cannon, as the humans often said.  This one was prone to think things out, and that was what made him dangerous, or what could make him more dangerous.  At last, Koschei mused, “So you’ll be confronting Theta-Eleven soon?”  Rassilon blinked, somewhat taken aback by the younger Time Lord’s question.  Then again, perhaps he shouldn’t have been.  Perhaps, he should have expected the question much sooner.

 Regardless, he answered slowly, “I believe so.  I had given some thought to bringing Angelo and Talia Colasanto forward in time, so they would know … for however short a time … about what their granddaughter became.  I know they raised her after her mother’s death, and I think it highly likely that her grandmother is Olivia’s greatest weakness.  However, given Ianto Jones’ reaction when he encountered you, that would be a very foolish move.  If Ianto didn’t attack him, Toshiko likely would have.  And really?  You’ve been reading Olivia bodice-rippers?  That is just pure evil, Koschei!”

 “Of course it is, my Lord President.  I _am_ the Master, I’m _supposed_ to be evil.  And I must admit, she’s a far more enjoyable toy than just about any of the Doctor’s Companions, past or present,” Koschei answered.  He paused and then continued, “In some ways, your decision to tie her life force to that of Anwen Williams’ is by far the cruelest thing you could have done to her.  Not simply because Anwen is an infant with the potential to live many decades, but because Olivia never wanted children … not until it was too late, at least.  And now, her life is tied to that of a child, a child she used and placed into danger.”  Rassilon merely smiled.  Yes, he was counting on that … the cruelty of the punishment, at least.  Koschei went on, “I do like your idea of bringing Angelo and Talia Colasanto forward in time so they can see what a disappointment their granddaughter is.  There’s ruthless, and then there’s just vindictive.  And I should know!”

 “Indeed,” Rassilon answered, offering his lieutenant a smile.  It was so very strange, the lines his life had taken in recent months.  Sitting at a table on Earth with his son’s team asleep in the assorted rooms, with his son’s tormentor sitting across from him as they quietly discussed the best way to punish a woman for her crimes.  Even if Rassilon could forgive Olivia Colasanto for setting events into motion that resulted in harm to his son (which he couldn’t), he could not and would not forgive her for using a child, an infant no less, to do it.

Another, companionable silence fell between the Time Lords.  Rassilon at last stirred himself to say, “Koschei, you don’t have to stay with us.  As I said when I brought you here, you may continue your mischief against the Doctor.”  Koschei merely shrugged, staring at nothing in particularly.  Rassilon said nothing initially, choosing to respect the other man’s silence.  He wondered if he could have found another way, other than placing the drums into Koschei’s head.  It wasn’t the first time he wondered such a thing … it wouldn’t be the last.

 Koschei finally murmured, “No … much as I appreciate your kind gesture, Lord President, there is unfinished business here that requires my attention.  And until that business is resolved, here is where I must stay.”  He allowed the corners of his mouth to quirk, adding, “Of course, after that, it’s open season on the Doctor.  Oh, I won’t do anything permanent to him.  After all, as a previous self observed on Gallifrey, a universe without the Doctor hardly bears thinking about.”  Rassilon smiled and inclined his head.  Koschei added thoughtfully, “As Suzie said, I’m not reformed … not really.  My … priorities have shifted.”

 Rassilon lifted his cup of cappuccino (his Earth drink of choice) and observed, “To shifting priorities.”  Koschei clinked his glass of orange Shasta (a soft drink to which Koschei had become curiously addicted to) and smiled.  Rassilon murmured, “To shifting priorities and the changes they bring.”  Koschei’s smile brightened as he took a drink.  There were worse reasons to change and worse things to drink to.

 

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

 

The Eleventh Doctor’s TARDIS

The Time Vortex

 

 

_Demons run when a good man goes to war_.

 The words repeated themselves in the Eleventh Doctor’s mind as he raced about the console.  He wasn’t entirely certain that he would classify himself as a good man, but compared to what he was facing … well, yes, he supposed he was a good man.  But he had much work to do, friends to contact.  Who would be the best people to take with him?  Eleven began to mentally list the most likely candidates.  Madame Vastra, her Jenny, Strax, Jack … all people he had to recruit to rescue Melody Pond.  He couldn’t do anything else, anything less, for his Ponds and their infant daughter.  An unnervingly familiar voice said, “No, Theta-Eleven.  Ask your other allies, if you will, but Jack Harkness is not available for your crusade.”  Eleven swung around to face the voice … and found himself face to face with Rassilon.  Rassilon, who would have destroyed Earth.  Rassilon, who was the one who drove Koschei insane.  Rassilon, who should be in the Time Lock, in eternal combat with the Daleks.  Rassilon, _who was in Sexy_!

 “And who are you to answer on Jack’s behalf?” Eleven demanded, fearing for his friend’s safety.  Had Rassilon done something to Jack?  Yes, Jack was immortal and yes, he was a Fixed Point in Time and Space, but that didn’t mean … oh, no _.  Please no_.  There was a voice in the back of his head which was reminding him that he was speaking to Rassilon, who returned the timelines and the Doctors to where they should have been after Borusa used the Time Scoop on them.  But he still remembered, also, his confrontation with the older Time Lord in the Naismith mansion, and what he would have done to Earth because he couldn’t bear to die, to let the Time Lords die.  Earth would have only been the beginning.

 “Not your concern at the moment.  What is your concern?  Jack Harkness is currently dealing with a threat far greater than the Silence … and this threat is a group of twenty-first century humans who would rule their world,” Rassilon answered coolly.  Eleven swallowed hard.  That meant Jack was safe.  The first among Time Lords continued, “There will be other battles he can fight for you.  But right now, he fights for Earth.  Long ago, you told your Companion, Rose Tyler, that Jack remained behind to rebuild the Earth in the wake of the Daleks using Satellite Five as a reaping ground.”  Eleven flushed, remembering the conversation in question, and Rassilon continued, “He isn’t rebuilding Earth, as such.  I have other people doing that in the aftermath of the Miracle.  Jack, however, is tracking down those responsible.”

 The Miracle?  Eleven racked his brain, trying to remember if he heard of any such thing.  Nothing came to mind.  Rassilon drawled, “Oh yes, the Miracle … or, as it’s properly called, the Atrocity.  Two months when only one person on Earth died, thanks to a group of apes who got their hands on the blood of an immortal and some Time Lord technology.  They call themselves the Families, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they were the real Toclafane.  They sought to rule the Earth, and as is so often the case, they ended up underestimating Captain Jack Harkness and those who stood with him.”  For a moment, it seemed as if both of Eleven’s hearts stopped.  He stared at Rassilon, who was decidedly not crazy right now.

 “How did they get their hands on Jack’s blood?  Did he give it to them?” Eleven asked weakly.  A moment after that, he wasn’t capable of saying anything, because Rassilon’s hand was wrapped around his throat.  He wasn’t being choked … nothing like that.  But the implication was clear:  I could suffocate you or snap your neck, and I have no issue with doing that.  Eleven breathed, “Right then.  Stupid question.”  And it was.  Despite his previous self’s tendency to fawn over Rose Tyler and dismiss Jack, Eleven knew better.  Jack was playful and maybe even a hedonist, but he wasn’t a monster.  At his worst, he was a con artist … even if he needed money, he would have run a con instead of giving the blood of a man from the fifty-first century to a group of malevolent miscreants. 

 “Indeed.  No, in 1928, a group of apes learned that Jack couldn’t stay dead.  And so for one night, they murdered him over and over again, collecting his blood.  At the end of the night, the owner of the business where he was held sold his blood to three men … three men who were the originators of the Families.  And if you think that was the first or last time such a thing happened to Jack, you are an even bigger fool than I thought,” Rassilon growled.  He released Eleven, who stumbled away.  Rassilon, this Rassilon, was definitely _not_ crazy.  Furious, most assuredly.  But not crazy and not homicidal.  Which brought several interesting questions to the forefront, including how he stopped being crazy … or if he was even ever crazy.

 Both Time Lords were silent for several moments, and then Rassilon told him, “I won’t tell you that what you’re doing isn’t important.  I could never do that.  A child is truly important.  You know this, as a father and a grandfather.  I know this.  I realized it again when my youngest son was born.”  He smiled softly, eyes growing tender, and Eleven couldn’t help himself.  No matter what incarnation he was, the Doctor always was and always would be curious.  It was how he often got himself and his Companions into trouble, just as it was often how he got them out of trouble.  Well, that and his sonic screwdriver, naturally.

 “Your youngest son?” Eleven asked and Rassilon nodded.  The Doctor couldn’t help himself.  Even as he remained wary of the other Time Lord, even though there were other questions to ask (such as how he got out of the Time Lock), this remained a point of curiosity for him.  He asked next, “Who is he?  Have I met him?  Is he a Time Lord?  What name has he taken?”  Rassilon waited until he ran out of questions, which didn’t happen until the next one.  Eleven inquired, “Oh, and does he look like any of your incarnations?”

 Rassilon smiled slowly at that, responding, “In reverse order.  Yes.  He does look like my current incarnation.”  Eleven blinked as the older Time Lord went on, “Also, yes, you’ve met him.  Several times in fact.  Your previous self behaved very badly toward him, in fact.  No, he is not a Time Lord.”  Rassilon stopped there, and Eleven stared at him, until he realized what Rassilon was doing.  He was waiting for him to put the pieces together.  With a disgruntled look toward one of the most powerful beings in the universe, Eleven did just that.

 He murmured, “He looks like your current self … dark hair, blue eyes, fair skin, cleft in the chin.”  Rassilon inclined his head with a small smile, and Eleven continued, “Someone I’ve met before, who looks like this incarnation of you, is not a Time Lord.”  A vaguely horrifying possibility was starting to occur to him, especially when he murmured, “Someone whom my previous self behaved very badly toward.”  Eleven remembered his thoughts of only a few minutes earlier, when he acknowledged his previous self’s disdain for Jack and veneration of Rose, and he whispered, “No.  It …” It was the only explanation, especially with Rassilon being here, telling him that he couldn’t enlist Jack in the plan to rescue Melody Pond.  Eleven breathed, “Jack.  Jack Harkness is your son.”

 “He is.  A wondrous, beautiful child born of two powerful beings.  No, I won’t tell you the identity of Jack’s mother.  I fear it would break your brain,” Rassilon said tartly.  Eleven opted not to indulge his curiosity this time around.  Rassilon was probably correct when he said that his answer would break his brain.  The older being added, “Oh, and while I know of your assumption that Jack will become a giant head in a jar … namely, the Face of Boe … you are incorrect.  Jack was, instead, named after him … something that amuses the Face greatly.”

 “Yes, I imagine so,” Eleven murmured.  And that’s when it hit him.  Rassilon knew about his previous self’s disdain for Jack.  He knew about all of it (including Ten’s rather pathetic final gift to Jack, and really, _what_ was he thinking?), and Eleven swallowed hard, asking, “Right.  So is this where you kick my arse from one end of the universe to the other for not doing right by your son?”  Because, really?  Regardless of what Rassilon did or did not do, right now, Eleven was facing not the Time Lord President, but the father.

 But Rassilon surprised him yet again.  He smirked at him almost impishly and replied, “I rather think I already did that, thank you ever so much.”  Ah.  Right.  He did.  And then, everything crashed in on Eleven’s head.  Rassilon wasn’t crazy any more.  He might be an angry father, but he wasn’t crazy.  Eleven stared at the other Time Lord as he finally, finally began putting the pieces together.  Rassilon wasn’t crazy.  It was extremely likely that he was never crazy.  Rassilon (unintentionally?) added credence to Eleven’s growing theory when he added heavily, “I only wish it wasn’t necessary to put the drums inside Koschei’s head.”

 It was entirely intentional.  Rassilon was staring at him steadily and Eleven murmured, “Of course.  Now it makes sense.  You saw the Time Lord Victorious.”  Rassilon merely smiled as Eleven continued to put the pieces together, muttering under his breath.  As a boy, he was told that even asleep in his tomb, Rassilon was still with them and always would be.  That was a tomb, which was in some ways, the ultimate Time Lock.  Especially when you considered what someone had to do to get there.  Eleven had rather horrifying memories from his previous selves of the Time Scoop an insane Borusa used on them.  And …  Eleven rounded on Rassilon, eyes wide, as he blurted out, “You conned me!”

 Rassilon merely blinked at him, replying, “Of course I did.  Jack had to inherit the conning from someone after all, and his mother is entirely too honest.  A bit cryptic, to be sure, but honest.”  _Ooh_.  He hadn’t thought of that.  Rassilon continued, his voice almost too gentle, “Think about it, Theta-Eleven.  If I was truly intent on dominating the universe so that Time Lords could ascend to a higher being, I would have wiped out all threats in my sleep.  You.  My son.  And even when I was on Earth, do you think I couldn’t have reached across the galaxy, across the very universe, and snuffed out his life if he was truly Wrong?”

 Oh.  Oh, Eleven never even considered that.  Which, of course, he should have.  One thing about Rassilon … if it was something that needed to be done, he did it.  Regardless of how he felt, he did it.  Sentiment had no place in his decisions.  He would have ended Jack if he was Wrong, son or not.  There were so many things he wanted to ask about, but in the end, the most important question he had for the powerful being before him was, “What was Jack like as a baby?  I’m thinking you saw him when he was born?”  He had his answer in the form of Rassilon’s smile, his real smile, which was like the sun coming up.  Jack had his father’s smile, Eleven realized with a pang.  He should have seen it sooner.

 “He was beautiful and perfect, with a magnificent pair of lungs.  Oh, he was not happy at _all_ with leaving the safety of his surrogate mother’s womb, and he was not at all shy about letting us know!  He was so beautiful, Theta-Eleven, so very beautiful.  Before he was born, there were times when his embryonic consciousness touched me, trying to reassure me.  Even in the womb, he could feel my fear and anger and even my love, and he tried to comfort me,” Rassilon answered.  Perhaps he should have been recruiting Madame Vastra and Jenny and Strax, as well as others, to rescue Melody … but he couldn’t help but feel that first, he should listen to the story of how one of his most loyal friends came into the world as an innocent baby … just as innocent as Melody Pond herself.

 

 

TWTWTWTWTWTW

 

 

 

The conversation with Theta-Eleven went surprisingly well.  Then again, it was Eleven, rather than Ten.  After he heard about Jack’s birth, he wanted to know about Miracle Day.  Rassilon was actually quite proud of the younger Time Lord, because he knew Jack couldn’t have been mortal … the others weren’t dying and resetting, and none of them became Fixed Points, none of them became Facts.  Rassilon was seeing signs of the Doctor who was his greatest friend, the Doctor with whom he trusted his greatest treasure, in Theta-Eleven.

 After Rassilon departed from the TARDIS and returned to Nevada, he entered the cottage/gatehouse/whatever you wanted to call it.  In the living room, he found Koschei reading one of the romance novels he was evidently tormenting Olivia Colasanto with.  When he commented upon this, Koschei glowered at him and sniffed, “Hardly.  _This_ is a romance, **not** a bodice ripper.  It’s entirely too good to waste on the likes of Olivia Colasanto!”  Rassilon blinked, both at the words and how much Koschei sounded like previous incarnations, but chose not to respond further.  There were some things he just didn’t need to know, and at the top of that list was the difference between bodice rippers and romances … or rather, what a formerly-insane Time Lord would see as the difference.

 Instead, he took a seat opposite his former pawn and closed his eyes.  Not to sleep.  He was, after all, a Time Lord and didn’t need the rest that humans did.  Instead, he wished to focus on what he accomplished since freeing himself and Koschei from the Time Lock.  More to the point, he focused on the flame of humanity that was Alicia Yates and her timeline.  Much to Rassilon’s pleasure, he discovered that she was making significant progress in the creation of her network.  She still didn’t have a name for it, lamenting to her friend Kate that everything she came up with either sounded like a charity or a terrorist organization from a comic book.  But Alicia would hit upon the correct name, given enough time.  For Rassilon, it wasn’t a matter of faith.  He simply knew.  Perhaps it wouldn’t be Alicia herself who spoke the name … perhaps it would be Kate, or Alicia’s father Mike or her son Drew … but it would be Alicia who recognized the name of the network when she heard it.  And in the meantime, she continued to receive emails from the organizations around the world, accepting her offer of assistance. 

 As it happened, while Kate and Alicia were in Buenos Aires, watching over Agent Matheson and Miss Drummond, they made contact with people who wanted to help.  There was no organization like Torchwood there, but Rassilon thought the Families inadvertently created such an organization.  The law of unintended consequences struck again!  That group that was formed in Buenos Aires in the wake of the Miracle would be the first to join the network, Rassilon Saw.  He smiled and turned his attention to another timeline.  Or more appropriately, he poked his head into the rooms of Suzie, Ianto and Toshiko.  He ignored the snicker from Koschei, as well as the voice in his mind and soul that he was behaving as if the trio were his children.  In a manner of speaking, they were.  They were his son’s, and Rassilon returned all three of them to life, so that made them his children in a manner of speaking.

 All three were sound asleep.  Toshiko remained on her side, holding onto Ianto’s hand, as if she wanted to make sure that he wouldn’t slip away from her in the night.  Rassilon could hardly blame her for that.  When she died in his son’s arms, she knew that Ianto was safe … that their city was safe.  When she rejoined the living as a spirit, it was to the discovery that her friend was gone and Jack had a new team.  With Ianto’s return, it was unlikely that Toshiko would be letting him out of her sight any time soon.  Further, it didn’t seem likely that Ianto begrudged the young woman the use of his hand.

 Rassilon straightened the covers over the two sleeping friends, lightly caressing their hair, before slipping out of the room once more to look in on Suzie.  Not surprisingly, she was given to nightmares about the pain she inflicted, about the people she killed, the things she experienced in Torchwood, and the horrors her father subjected her to.  Rassilon almost wished he still had the Resurrection Gauntlets and their accompanying dagger, so he could kill the bastard and bring him back to life.  Repeatedly.  He knew that he often wasn’t there for his son … he also knew that his actions led to terrible suffering for Jack … but he would have never hurt Jack, or any other child of his, the way Chandra Costello hurt his daughter.

 With infinite care, Rassilon straightened out the girl’s sheets and blankets, which were twisted around her legs and torso, and then tucked them around her securely.  She mumbled something in her sleep that he couldn’t quite make out (and probably would have made no sense, anyhow), rolled to one side and curled up, around one of the pillows.  Rassilon smiled at her affectionately, before leaving her room.  In the front room, Koschei put aside the book and was now working on the laptop that Suzie kept in the cottage … using the name Suzanne Choudry, she created accounts and commandeered used laptops for the cottage and the caravan.  Rassilon bit back a smile as he watched Koschei playing a game on the laptop.

 At length, the other Time Lord said, “Do you know, I haven’t yet paid a visit to Dite in this incarnation?”  Rassilon stared at the younger being, startled.  Not only did he not know that, but he wasn’t even aware that Koschei was aware of the young Pretrovian.  Well, she was young by his standards.  He allowed her alone to live, because she showed compassion to other, lesser, younger races.  And so long as she gave her hosts the option to say ‘ _no_ ’ when it was time for her to change bodies, he would continue to allow her to live.  Koschei smiled faintly and said, “I have encountered Dite before … including in my previous incarnation.  A group of humans under her protection were among the few my Toclafane couldn’t kill.  There’s no doubt in my mind, too, that she remembers the Year, even after Time was turned back.”

 “I learned from my son and Sophia Tregarth during their visit here for Natalie to accept her inheritance from Angelo that her family remember that Year as well.   I don’t know why, but they do.  Most of them, at least,” Rassilon observed.  Koschei’s eyes widened with that revelation, before narrowing once more.  Whether he was making calculations in his mind or merely thinking things through, Rassilon couldn’t be sure.  After a moment, the first modern Time Lord inquired, more than a bit curious, “You didn’t harm Dite?”  There was a brief hesitation, and then Koschei shook his head slowly.  Rassilon inquired, because he was becoming more and more curious by the moment (something else that his son inherited from him), “Why not?  She stood against you, just as Theta did.  So why not?”

 “Because I couldn’t find her.  She challenged me to find her if I could, but I could never find her.  If I had … I hope I wouldn’t have harmed her.  But given what I was at that point … I might have done to her the same things I did to your son and to the Doctor.  She’s not quite immortal, but she’s something close.  Do you know, there was a science fiction show years ago that actually came close to showing what a Pretrovian is?  With the way that they take on new bodies as time passes?  I was astonished,” Koschei responded, shaking his head with obvious amazement.  Rassilon heard references to such a series, but found it hard to watch science fiction shows, perhaps because what he saw was so far beyond the capacity for humans to imagine.

Or had he?  When was the last time he was able to dream or to imagine?  Wasn’t one of the reasons he asked the Time Agency for Jack was because of his son’s imagination and innovative qualities?  He thought about what he asked of Toshiko and Ianto, to help him learn about the culture and customs and everything that made this time what it was.  Would they be able to remind him how to imagine and visualize, everything that he lost?  They weren’t Jack, but they were human, and that was one thing he did admire about humanity.  Whether it was creating life or destroying it, they had extraordinary imaginations.

However, there was a question he still had to ask Koschei.  Namely, “Why do you need to see Dite now?  Have you seen a timeline or a potential timeline that involves her?”  Koschei hesitated slightly, before nodding.  Rassilon thought about what that entailed.  At last, he replied, “Just make sure that someone is entertaining Olivia.  I would hate for her to get bored … and for her to find out ahead of the Avengers that her cousin is still alive.”  Koschei merely smiled and offered a semi-mocking bow before sweeping out of the house.  Rassilon sat back, thinking about the conversation.  There was something about Koschei’s assignation with Dite that troubled him.  After a moment, he shook his head and picked up the laptop.  This game (whatever it was) was as good of a place as any, to begin learning what he needed to learn about Earth and about humanity.  Besides, he always did enjoy games.  He rather hoped to have the chance to play His game with the Families, since they were so intrigued by immortality.  Time would tell, though.  Rassilon smiled to himself.  Time always told.

 

 

 

Fin 


End file.
